The Ace of Clubs

by Patricia Loofbourrow

  She nodded. “The factories run all night, men coming and going, whistles and bells.” She gulped her milk.

  I asked Tenni, “What happened to your parents?”

  “I never knew my father well, mum; haven’t seen him since my little sister was born. My mother got shot at the grocery a few years ago. It was in the paper.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Tenni shrugged. “We never saw her home much, mum. I just started work for Madame. She took me on full time.”

  Tony froze, staring at Tenni with his emotionless mask on.

  Morton said, “How many are at your house?”

  “Me and my five sisters, sir. I’m the oldest. The youngest is seven; we make enough to keep her at home.” Tenni spoke with pride. “We get off at different times and check on her. She braids twine for the newspaper — five cents every 100 yard roll. Madame showed me how to make gloves for her so the twine doesn’t cut her fingers. And I’m teaching her to read. Madame taught me.”

  “You’re a good sister,” Morton said.

  Tenni blushed. “Thank you, sir.”

  Tony said, “Mrs. Spadros, may we speak privately?”

  “Of course.” We went to his study. “How may I help?”

  Tony shook his head. “I had no idea this girl was a servant.”

  “You’re upset because you had dinner with a servant?”

  “I had a servant at table with a gentleman! What must he think of us? What must the servants think?”

  “That you’re kind to children? What else would they think?”

  “Favoritism amongst servants only causes trouble,” Tony said. “I’ll explain it to the staff tomorrow. But the maid must go.”

  Instantly, Tenni had lost all humanity. “Yes, sir.”

  “Take the dress off her and have it burned.”

  “Burned? But it’s your favorite dress! It’s my favorite dress!”

  “A ...” he seemed disgusted, “... servant has worn it, Jacqui, and a shop maid at that. Why would you want to wear it again?”

  “May I give it to her? The girl has so little.”

  “No. Jane will find something suitable for her to wear home.”

  “You think this poorly of a servant? What of me?”

  “What do I think of you? You’re my wife.” Tony grabbed my arm. “If I see your clothing on her again, I’ll have her whipped.”

  Stunned and angry, I returned to the table. Tenni had cleared her plate and was on her second glass of milk. Morton put down his napkin. “Is Mr. Spadros well?”

  “Yes. Tenni, let’s get you changed. You can go home now.”

  While changing, Tenni said, “You and Master Rainbow aren’t like the others.”

  I smiled to myself. “I suppose not.”

  When Tenni and I returned to the dining hall, Madame stood waiting. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Madame said to Tony. “Today’s been most informative.” She took Tenni’s hand and left.

  I sat. Sawbuck and Morton seemed disturbed. “What is it?”

  Tony looked up. “What is what?”

  “Something’s happened.”

  “Yes,” Tony said. “Something has. I gave Madame Biltcliffe a choice. You’ll be retaining a new dressmaker from now on.”

  I stared at him, outraged. “Did you threaten her?”

  “I gave her two options. She chose to withdraw her services.”

  What was the other choice? “So you’ve chosen this woman?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure my mother knows someone suitable.”

  “But Madame’s in the midst of work on my Summer dress! You can’t cancel an order she’s already begun!”

  “I’ll allow you to visit, Jacqui, but only to finish the dress. You’re not to go anywhere else. Do you understand? You’re not to venture out without escort.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong, yet I’m imprisoned!”

  Tony laughed. “Nonsense. You’re free to go anywhere in the city you like, so long as you stay with your guards.”

  I drained my glass of wine. “Please excuse me.”

  Morton glanced at me, but I ignored him. If Tony realized he — or Sawbuck — hid my adventures, they too could be in danger.

  The Secrets

  I carried my blue dress to my room. Amelia cleaned and bound my broken nail, got me changed from Madame’s mourning garb into my nightgown, and said goodnight. Then I went into the left side of my closets, to the back.

  The paneled wall appeared as any other, but if I pressed on one panel just right, it moved inward far enough for me to slide it up. They’d found all my hiding places except this one.

  In the space behind lay an envelope with the money I’d made over the years as an investigator and Dame Anastasia’s book on stage makeup. I wrapped these inside my blue dress. If I found a way to escape, a bundle would be quicker to retrieve.

  I slid the panel back down, returned to my bedroom, poured a glass of bourbon, drank it, then poured another. I loved the taste, the burning in my chest, the way I felt afterward.

  I would never stop working. I couldn’t go out anymore, but Tony didn’t know my network of informants. And as far as I knew, my mail wasn’t being opened.

  I could still learn who murdered Marja.

  I rang for Amelia. Twenty minutes later, she appeared in her robe and nightgown, hair in disarray. “Yes, mum?”

  “I wish to write some post.”

  “At this hour?”

  “I’ll post it tomorrow. Please bring paper, pen, and ink now.”

  As Amelia went rummaging around the room for writing supplies (and, I imagined, my study when finally she left) I paged through the copies of the Golden Bridges I’d set aside.

  There was little news other than what Tony and Mrs. Bryce had told me, yet much speculation as to the explosion.

  I knew who bombed the zeppelin. What I needed to learn was who killed Marja.

  Why did I care so much? While I loved my Ma, she was busy owning her brothel; Marja cared for us most of the time. In a way, Marja was more of a mother than Ma ever was.

  When Amelia returned, I wrote to my contacts about the facility Marja sent the letter from. Who else worked there? I asked about Marja and who might want her killed. I asked about Josie’s uncle, who it seemed she barely knew. Did he have reason to want Marja dead? And I asked about this woman Birdie.

  I stacked the letters on my tea-table, then sat in bed with another glass of bourbon. My options seemed more limited every day; each action had to count.

  Tony arrived, smiling when he saw me. “I hope you’re well?”

  “Indeed.” I felt luminous. “What intrigues did you concoct?”

  He laughed. “Not much, alas.” Then he sobered. “I wanted to apologize. You should be able to choose your own dressmaker.”

  “I’ll ask Madame and your mother for recommendations. Perhaps there’ll be someone on both lists who’ll suffice.”

  Tony smiled. “Always considering the options.”

  How might I help Mrs. Bryce? I sipped my bourbon, considering the matter.

  I heard Tony’s door open, and his manservant Jacob Michaels’ voice. Soon Tony returned in his pajamas and slid into bed next to me. “What happened to your hand?”

  I shrugged. It still throbbed. “A broken nail, nothing more.”

  He gently kissed it, then my wedding ring, then the back of my hand.

  “I want to help Mrs. Bryce. One of her sons has been murdered and another ruined on our account.”

  “This Mrs. Bryce ... she’s a merchant then?”

  “She owns Bryce Fabrics on 2nd Street, Spadros quadrant.”

  “And you believe Master Jack Diamond is part of the group who took him?”

  “Mrs. Bryce says a dark-skinned man with shaven head wearing white came to her door a week before the kidnapping. We saw him and a man who I believe to be Frank Pagliacci put the boy into a carriage.” I was too far away to identify either of them. I’d only seen Jack a few
times, but ... “She could tell this was the same man by the way he moved.”

  I compared this man to the man at the Grand Ball. Was this the impostor I saw in Jack’s factory? Or was it Jack himself?

  “Tell me what happened that night.”

  Tony’s words startled me. “What night?”

  “The night which has you wake screaming since we’ve wed. I know Master Diamond’s manservant was murdered, but I must know everything if we’re to appear before The Commission.”

  I felt astonished. “You mean to approach the Patriarchs?”

  Tony seemed surprised. “Regina Clubb plans formal protest; I can make one in return. I have now six merchants who describe everything from blackmail to this kidnapping — in Spadros quadrant — by a man fitting Jack Diamond’s description. And today you tell me he threatened you here at my home.” He shook his head. “This is completely unacceptable. But I must know why he targets you, if I’m to help.” He glanced away. “This is much larger than you think, Jacqui. Please. Dr. Salmon believes speaking of it might help with the nightmares, too.”

  It might help with the nightmares? “Very well.”

  I sat up in bed and told him about the meeting between Roy Spadros and Peedro Sluff that cold winter night just after I turned twelve. Jack’s manservant Daniel rushed towards us, shouting what seemed a warning, yet Peedro shot him, claiming Daniel intended to kill Roy.

  “This is incredible,” Tony said. “I heard the shots but ...”

  “You were much too far away to have seen what happened.” I was sure Roy planned it that way.

  “Such perfidy! Your father hired to kill mine, yet turns on his master to buy favor with a Family? I’ve heard of such things, but never thought men could be so dishonorable.”

  I snorted. “You obviously aren’t acquainted with my father.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Jack rode up on one of his father’s white horses. He wore white even then, and knelt in the mud, weeping for his friend.” The anguish in his face haunted me. “Then Jack screamed vengeance on us all —” I faltered, picturing Jack’s rage and hate.

  Tony took my hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  It was my fault. I should never have been there.

  Peedro’s grip on my arm. Air desperately trying to save me from being sold. Air’s body crumpling after Peedro shot him too. The blood.

  “Oh, Jacqui.” Tony gathered me into his arms. “I’m sorry to cause you grief.”

  If I told Tony that my father sold me to the Spadros Family then killed my best friend when he tried to stop it ... this would put everything into question, including our marriage.

  And Roy would kill me.

  I shook my head. Air was dead, and I was sold. None of it should ever have happened. No matter what Eleanora Bryce said, I cast the cards that night.

  It was all because of me.

  Tony gestured to the portrait of Acevedo Spadros II on the wall. “Ever since you asked about my grandfather, I’ve considered what he might do. I want to be like him, Jacqui, not like my father.” He kissed my hand. “I’ll let you help your merchant friend. This is clearly part of Jack Diamond’s need for vengeance, and it can’t be allowed to stand.”

  * * *

  That night, I pondered how to help Mrs. Bryce. Money was out of the question: too much, and they would become targets. Perhaps recommend her shop to others? Bring food? I tried to imagine what living in such poverty was like. In the Pot, if we had, we shared. The slums didn’t seem to abide by such rules.

  At breakfast, Tony produced a letter. “We’re requested to attend the inquest as witnesses on the fourth of May.”

  This seemed alarming. “Both of us?”

  “Yes,” Tony said. “I appear at eleven, you at half past. But we’ll likely need to attend other days.” He paused, looking aside. “The attorneys say it’s best to attend when the other Families do, so as not to give the appearance of controversy.”

  “This is most disturbing,” I said.

  Morton, who sat across the round table from us, appeared quite disturbed, yet said nothing.

  “My father says this thing must run its course,” Tony said. “To be seen interfering in any way would cause more harm than to let the inquest have its investigation.”

  As usual, Morton wore brown — but the buttons on his jacket seemed familiar. “Where did you get that jacket?”

  Morton shrugged. “Your husband’s men bought it after I was rescued from the river. Mine was ruined, and I don’t dare return for my clothing in case my house is being watched. Your husband has been kind enough to provide me with a new wardrobe, for which I’m grateful.”

  I hurried round the table to him. “I’ve seen this button before. I found this exact button on the floorboards of a carriage stolen from Market Center by the two men who kidnapped David.”

  Morton froze. At the time, he had been disguised, claiming to be a member of the Diamond portion of the Pot as he helped Frank Pagliacci lure me. Did he tell Tony that part? “As you can see, all of the buttons remain on this jacket.”

  I turned to Tony. “I asked Madame Biltcliffe where the button came from. She said they were hand-carved. Only twenty were made, enough for two jackets. We must learn where your men got this jacket, so we can question the owner to see if he recalls who bought its twin.”

  Tony nodded. “I’ll have them do that at once.”

  * * *

  Tony asked me not to appear at morning meeting. Perhaps he felt the servants might express their true thoughts about Tenni if I were absent.

  In any case, I had ample time to walk in the gardens with Amelia’s son Pip. He tossed an old baseball to Rocket, our black pitbull terrier.

  “How do you like rooming with the men?”

  “It’s fine.” Pip threw the ball, and Rocket raced after it. Then the dog raced back, ears up. Pip threw the ball again. “They helped with the horses while Daddy was gone.”

  Rocket dropped the ball in front of us. Pip grabbed the ball and threw it, hard. “I’m not going to tend the horses anymore.”

  “Why?”

  Misery crossed his face. “I heard what the men said. I don’t want to work for Daddy anymore.”

  “What did the men say?”

  “That it wasn’t right for Daddy to stay at the Country House with Mommy and my sisters and send me away. That it wasn’t my fault what Mr. Roy did to Mommy.”

  Rocket dropped the ball at Pip’s feet, tail wagging.

  Pip stood still, head drooping. “Mr. Roy did something real bad to Mommy, something too bad even for men to say.” He knelt to hug Rocket. “I think it’s why she hates me. But why does she think it’s my fault? Why did Daddy send me away?” He put his head on Rocket’s back. “I don’t know what I did to make them hate me.”

  I crouched beside him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetie. Look at me.”

  Tears glistened in his pale blue eyes.

  “You’re right; Mr. Roy did a very bad thing to your Ma.” I bit my lip, not knowing how much to say. “But the men are right too; it’s not your fault.”

  Pip turned away. “Then Mommy and Daddy are bad to blame me. They’re bad to send me away.” He shook his head. “It’s not right. I don’t want to work for Daddy anymore. I feel hateful when I see him. Both of them.”

  I lobbed the ball far into the meadow. Rocket raced away. “Come.” I held out my hand, and we walked in the garden under the watchful gaze of Roy’s men. “What will you do then, if not help with the horses?”

  Pip’s face lit up, and he let go of my hand, jumping up and down. “Monsieur and Miss Anne are teaching me to cook! I helped roll the pastries, and they’re going to show me how to make sausage!”

  I smiled. “Monsieur makes the best sausage.”

  Pip beamed.

  “But Monsieur sounds so fierce. Aren’t you afraid of him?”

  “Oh, no, mum, not at all. Miss Anne says he sounds fierce, like Rocket when he smell
s gunpowder, but he’d never hurt anyone.” He patted Rocket’s head and threw the ball. “Monsieur likes me, him and Miss Anne both. They really like me.” Rocket dropped the ball, and Pip picked it up slowly, face pensive. “I don’t think Mommy and Daddy ever liked me much.”

  This was heartbreaking.

  A cat ran past. Rocket barked, chasing it around the corner.

  I put my hand on Pip’s shoulder. “I think they love you as best they can, your Daddy especially. He didn’t want you to stay with the men. He even came in the house to ask me not to let you go. I could tell it scared him, but he did it anyway.” I peered at him, trying to decide what to say. “But sometimes other things make it so they don’t know how to love you very well.”

  Pip nodded, his face serious and pale. “What happened to my Mommy?”

  The exact question I didn’t want to answer. I let out a breath, shaking my head. “It’s her story, and not for me to tell. Maybe she’ll tell you someday.” I doubted it, but it might keep his questions at bay.

  “But why? Everyone else knows. They look at me and whisper when they think I can’t see.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am. You deserve to know. But ... maybe someday.”

  He peered up at me, a young Roy. Was that man ever so innocent? “When I get grown up?”

  I smiled. “Yes. When you get grown up, I’m sure they’ll tell you. If they don’t tell you, when you become a man I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

  He frowned, then kicked a rock. “It’s not fair.”

  “Yes, dear, I know. Most things in life aren’t fair at all.”

  * * *

  Eventually, we went back to the house and Pip went off to his work. I returned to my room, but Amelia wasn’t there. So I went to my dresser to put my gloves away.

  I normally placed a hair across the locked drawer, but inside, where it would only be disturbed by opening the drawer.

  The hair was gone.

  I opened the drawer. The five pages of information I wrote back in January with all I knew about Morton was gone. In its place lay a letter:

  My dear Mrs. Spadros,

  I apologize for the intrusion, but this was the place least likely to be discovered by others before you found it.

  Please don’t trouble yourself about the events on the train. I understand your intention was only to create a certain distraction for our flight from the police. While it was a most pleasant diversion,